


The Will of a Potter

by The Raven Sennin (The_Raven_Sennin)



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2012-04-06
Updated: 2012-04-06
Packaged: 2017-11-03 03:46:46
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,381
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/376838
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_Raven_Sennin/pseuds/The%20Raven%20Sennin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Am I entitled to create a will before reaching my majority?" Harry asked politely.</p>
<p>"You are," the goblin answered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Will of a Potter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Famous Last Words](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/7718) by Fringeperson. 



> The first 290 odd words of this are by fringeperson. Look them up on FF dot net. I am adopting this, as fringe has said one can.

Harry sat in a Gringotts office with a goblin who was well versed in legal matters. Just last night he had arrived at the Leaky Cauldron after having run from his relatives' house, and since then had done a little bit of thinking. Alright, a lot of thinking, and now he had just finished explaining his thoughts to the goblin legal expert.

"Voldemort at eleven, basilisk at twelve, nigh murderously negligent relations," the goblin grumbled as he sought for a fresh quill in the bowels of his desk drawer, having snapped the last one between his clawed fingers. "Manipulative old men who don't understand common sense or the value of life, crazed murderers on the loose, ministry idiots, dementors to be on school grounds," he continued darkly.

Finally finding a fresh quill, the goblin fixed his beady gaze on the boy.

"Am I entitled to create a will before reaching my majority?" Harry asked politely.

"You are," the goblin answered. "And given your circumstances, Mr Potter, I would say that it is highly advisable. With Sirius Black on the loose and rumoured to be out for your head specifically, to say nothing of the life-threatening situations that crop up around you, whether by design or unfortunate circumstances, yes. I am inclined to strongly recommend you compile a will. For it to be full and comprehensive, I also recommend that we go over the total of your assets. It wouldn't do for something important to be squabbled over simply because it was forgotten in your will after all."

Harry nodded his understanding. "That sounds perfectly sensible," he agreed.

The boy had no idea how life-changing simply going to Gringotts that day to write out his will would turn out to be. Not just his life, either...

\--

As a matter of course, the goblin requested the will of Harry's parents. Some would assume that it was under some sort of seal or legal binding by the Chief Warlock.

They would be ignoring one key element of Albus Dumbledore of the many middle names-- his favourite kind of security was the kind brought on by puzzles and obscurity. Harry could have told you that purely based on "the Gauntlet" he had faced with his friends to get to the Stone.

So rather than some sort of official sealing, Dumbledore had simply buried the will under as much paperwork and refiling as he could.

That all was meaningless, as the copy at the Ministry was not the only copy, and not a full copy at that. But then, perhaps Dumbledore could be forgiven for this oversight, being a school teacher by pure profession no matter how many titles were foisted on him.

Rophook-- who was rather touched Harry actually asked his name-- idly spoke as his moon-lens framed eyes went over the will. "Your parents filed their will with Higgins, Gunthrope, and Gristlechewer. As per the firm's policy, a copy was locked in the family vault and the original and a back up keep in their secure storage facilaty. HG&G specialize in wizards with mixed property in the hidden and open worlds. Gristlechewer is credited as Gristle in the muggle world."

"A goblin?" Harry asked, and his tone was that of honest interest. That scored him a few more points.

"Dwarf, actually. We get along better than some of your fiction would have you think."

Harry smirked. "If I went by muggle stories, I'd guess underwear obsessed gnomes ran the Nordic countries' banking."

The goblin gave a bark of laughter. "Indeed, Mr. Potter. Now, as to your particular questions: Your aunt IS in fact on the list of possible guardians, but near the end and with an emphatic plea by your mother-- well, from the legalese I'm guessing it was-- that she be informed fully of the conditions of your parent's death."

"I was left on a doorstep in a basket with a note."

The goblin scowled. "Albus Dumbledore. Convinced he's living in a fairytale. You were a year or so old, weren't you? Good gold, I hope he spelled it to keep you from crawling off!"

"Must have. Or at least knocked me out good with a few warming charms."

"Charming," the goblin agreed. "Well, he could attempt to pass the note off as the informing aspect, but I'll run it by the others in Legal if need be." The goblin lowered his glasses. "Mr. Potter... aside from the main business of your will, you can petition for a change of guardianship...?"

Harry blinked. "I was told... wards, based on my mother's blood sacrifice... tied to my mother's blood via my aunt..."

The goblin gave a toothy grin-- which Harry was honestly finding less unsettling as time went on-- and said, "Mr. Potter. I will have to get a team to look at these wards, but there's a fundemental flaw in that reasoning."

Harry frowned. "Well, if it's based on my mum's blood..." Harry blinked. "Could... I be the anchor?"

"As I said, I am now wanting to spare nothing to look at those wards via a team of crafters and curse breakers. Now, the meat and spores of your visit."

"My will."

"Yes. And by proxy, that of your parents. It must be probated-- proved legal and authentic-- before we can write yours."

Harry nodded slowly. "They might not have left me anything."

"Nonsense! The Potters were very well off, and I know for a fact James and Lilly loved you! I have no doubt you have an inheritance, Mr. Potter."

"You... knew them?"

Ropehook grinned. "Mr. Potter, remind me when this business is done to tell you how I kept your father from investing in a flying carpet importer." Harry slowly gave a small smile. "Do not doubt you were loved, Mr. Potter. James and Lily loved many."

"So... I might not be the only one getting stuff."

"Indeed. For example-- just scanning this now, they also set up a trust fund for the son of your godmother, Alice Longbottom. There's also a fund for the volunteer militia Headmaster Dumbledore set up during the war, the Order of the Phoenix--" seeing Harry's puzzlement, the goblin explained, "It's part of the treaties that allow the Statute of Secrecy. Wizarding Britain is an armed society, Mr. Potter. Anyone with a wand can be a combatant. They are not allowed a standing army, but training is offered via the British Armed Forces training arms and the Wizengamot may form militia as needed."

Harry nodded. "I assume there's some sort of condition on the fund."

"Yes, a series of them. Higgins, Gunthrope, and Gristlechewer did a good job to insure things stayed on the up and up... and also to make sure Ministry waffling doesn't hamper defence by throwing unneeded bureaucracy into the mix."

"Anyone else stand out?"

"Mm. There's a bequest to Peter Pettigrew, (conditional on you surviving your parents after the event of Voldemort successfully attacking them) of--" Rophook stopped short, and made a note on a parchment. "I'll... have that one looked into. But really, Mr. Potter, what's important at the moment is what you inherit through this will and what you wish to do with it in your will. There's also other bequests that have to be accounted for, income made in your name, the trust fund for your formative years..."

"Can we start with the grand picture? I mean, what am I worth? As much as...?" Harry offered.

The goblin smirked. "A well paid mid-roster football player who invested well before retirement." He caught Harry blinking. "Caught a Manchester United game once, been mad for it ever since. As to you... as long as it remains vested so, and properly managed, and you are here to enjoy it... you can comfortably live off dividends, interest, and earnings for life."

Harry blinked. "Can I get a job anyway?"

The goblin gave him another searching look.

"I can't really see myself as a idle rich twit."

Another grin. "It's the idle part I find offensive."

"Though I'd bet you have your share of twits, Rophook."

They shared a laugh, then Rophook sobered. "I'm afraid there's no way this will be anything but a slog, Mr. Potter, and nothing I'd wish on a teenager of any species or inclination-- even my own. But to properly do this, we need to go over the Potter holdings in detail, itemise it all..."

Harry nodded. "Life can't be all Quidditch and duels to the death with dark tossers." He frowned. "I'm... hoping it won't be. And... call me Harry."

"Noose," the goblin offered.

Harry blinked, then grinned. "As in you're the Rope--"

"Yes. Got it when I worked in Receivership, for letting wizards that thought they could out do a 'beast' hang themselves-- mostly metaphorically. It's easier than my given name in Gobbledegook, and I've grown fond of it. Shall we?"

\--

Oh, Merlin, Noose was not kidding. It was a long, hard drag going through the Potter estates. The businesses blurred together, and the joy of discovery was dulled with sheer volume.

Most of it was small investments-- a few shares here, a few there, a ten-galleon-a-month-over-time mutual fund investment over .

He did free and clear own a few things-- or at least, was intended to.

Potter's End, the ancestral manor, and the employ of the elves working there in; that was currently maintained by trust. He idly wondered if Dobby might take a job there. His house elf friend was mad, but worth the friendship.

The Potters were not typical purebloods, and didn't play some of the games others did. They didn't put stock in having multiple houses just so they could prove they had the money. So there was the one home enchanted to be found only by its current master until claimed and a cottage near Hogsmeade, and that was it.

He owned a drink company serving both worlds, which he was suprised to learn bottled both the most popular brand of butterbeer ("It's the one that gave the drink its name") and his cousin's favourite soft drink. The tiny irony was worth a chuckle.

Wide eyes met the news that he owned Eeylop's Owl Emporium outright, as Edgar Eeylop had no children, but had considered his father a good man. He had in a way owned Hedwig since birth.

He owned land in Diagon Alley, as well as some of the other alleys branching off from Merlin Circus at the end. The rents from them alone were... quite agreeable.

He also owned voting shares in Nimbus and a company that owned several fine Wizarding book shops across Europe, including being one of the investors in Flourish and Blotts.

"Your family is the reason the Hogwarts school texts are so cheap, and most students can get the latest editions every year. A trust fund, set up by your thrice great grandfather and the heads of Longbottom and Malfoy of the day."

"Malfoy?" Harry blinked.

"I know. Seeing Lucias and his father side with the Dark Lord... disappointing. No one else saw fit to live up to the last name's literal translation," Noose said with a sigh. "Bad faith," he explained.

His mother had left him her mother and father's house-- one, incidentally, the Dursleys had apparently been disappointed to not get their hands on. The resale value was good, but the law firm that did his parents' will wasn't having the Dursleys have it. "Dear Old Gristle is apparently quite fond of your mother and father," Rophook explained.

Harry frowned thoughtfully. "...Do you think the firm would represent me as well?"

"Harry, my boy, I was going to suggest at least running your will by them to insure it will pass probate-- to make sure it's seen as legal and true. I am... well, in terms of the law, a paralegal. I can advise, but you still need a proper barred barrister. Gringotts is, after all, a bank-- not a law firm. I can see when they next have an associate available...?" At Harry's nod, the goblin made another note on the parchment he'd used earlier. "Now, on to--" Noose blinked as the parchment pulsed. He tapped it with his quill and started to read something on it-- and Harry could swear he saw words forming on it as Noose read. Noose blinked, jotted something down, and then hopped off his stool.

When Noose opened the door to his office, Harry smiled as he felt he was seeing for the first time a dwarf the way the dwarves wanted to be seen, and not the way the ones hired by his second year Defense teacher were dressed for a job. The dwarf wore a simple button up blouse, and her pants were also simple slacks-- but well made, the finest material. From the number of times the elaborate braid of her just greying black hair was coiled around to form the neat-- pile? bun? Harry wasn't sure of the word for it-- on her head, her hair was quite long. Her weathered face spoke of someone who met life's troubles head on.

"Madame Gristlechewer," Noose said in greeting, bowing.

The dwarf seemed to gargle and bark a bit, then said, "I insist..."

"Well if you are Amlyn, then call me Noose. I was rather... surprised you came here in person on short notice..."

"It's for a Potter," the barrister said simply, as if that said everything. To her, it seemed to. She looked up as Harry rose. He gave her a little unsure bow.

"Thank you for coming, Madame Gristlechewer. I'm... not sure what to do here," he finished lamely, eyes drifting to his hand.

The dwarf gave him a warm smile. "The bow is a good start, Mr. Potter. Never crouch to a dwarf's level unless lending aid; if you want to not be looking down on us--" she smiled as Noose was already fetching a stool-- "offer us a way to rise up. Besides being rude in my culture for reasons we need not get into, handshaking would make you stoop and puts you too close to crouching, so just bow. German dwarves-- they'd want to clasp hands, so don't judge based on stature. In fact, you'd almost be able to pass as a tall dwarf, so it's good advice all around. And you, my boy, are also going to have to get used to calling me Amlyn."

"I'll try, ma'am," Harry said, and waited until the barrister had scaled and sat upon her stool before sitting, just as Noose did. She looked Harry over.

"You've got your mother's eyes and her build."

Harry gave a shy smile. "Most people point out how I look like my father."

"Their loss." The woman's eyes grew hawk-like. "You need to tell young Harry what his parents left Mr. Pettigrew so I can act on it, Noose-- an innocent man is being hunted, and the Ministry wants to loose the Dementors on my niece's school."

"You have family at Hogwarts?" Harry said. "I mean, I've got no issue, Professor Fliwick is magic at charms... oh... did I just say that?"

"You did," Amlyn said with far too much amusement. Noose stifled a chuckle. "And yes, my niece Sally-Anne is part dwarf and attends Hogwarts. We've been using wands as foci almost as long as wizards have-- though, like humans and goblins, there are some things we dwarves have a knack for and some we don't. That aside... Noose?"

Noose sighed, setting aside the paperwork for Harry's own will and took up the copy of his parents' will. "Your parents left Peter Pettigrew 30 sickles."

Harry's eyes narrowed. "Thirty _silver_ sickles? Who was this Pettigrew, and what did he do that was so awful?"

"He's got it," Amlyn said with a nod. "Mr. Potter... allow me to tell you a bit about your father's Hogwart's days, his friends, his life...and then, Noose and I owe you an oath so we can start fixing things."

\--

"You have to understand, Harry-- we are still in the world even as the law keeps us hidden," Noose said.

"So... only the willfully ignorant in the magical world wouldn't 'get' the Judas reference?" Harry asked, looking at the lines in his parent's will that marked Peter Pettigrew as a traitor.

"Just so. Sickles, I get it and I'm not human. Wizards come with as varied beliefs as the rest of humanity; even among goblins, there are enough of us to get a variety. If anything, the variety is even stronger-- you'll find people practicing something that branched off from the old Celtic Christanity just as the Secrecy came down and turn to see Roman Catholics across the room. Oddly, they seemed to be more accepting of Atheists than the wider world until recently. Just because the last few generations of pureblood choose to be blind to it does not mean the larger world doesn't exist. So yes, the tradition of giving a accused traitor thirty pieces of silver has been established, and only the ignorant-- often through arrogance-- would not know the source."

Harry nodded. "Amlynn said something about an Oath...?"

"It formalizes our relationship," Amlynn explained. "It's one of the oaths-- well, family of oaths-- so old, you usually just need to say it's name to invoke it... but I think spelling it out would be right in this case..." her wand slid from a forearm holster.

"I swear upon my good name, my profession, and my magic that I will act as legal representive to Harry James Potter. I will keep his confidence under the privellage my profession provides, and shall advise him on and represent in any legal matter to the best of my ability. I accept that should I violate this pledge, my name will be sullyed, I will face disbarment by the Bar Association of Magical Britain, and I shall be rendered a squib. Do you accept?"

Harry blinked. "Do you... have to stake your magic on it?"

Amlynn gave a tight smile. "No. But I'm going to. Do you accept, Harry?"

Harry looked on the edge of panic.

"It is her job to take this responsablity, Harry," Noose said.

"But, what if I--"

Amlynn lowered her wand, frowning. "Harry James Potter, where ever this over developed sense of responsiblity is coming from... _shelve it_. I am willing to stake my magic on it because I know you will not abuse the bond, and I told your mother I'd move heaven and earth if you asked me. Now," she raised her wand again. "I've laid out my oath. Accept it so I can decimate any legal stupidity that makes you unhappy and stop you from doing stupid things."

"Yes, ma'am. I accept."

"And as form dictates...Glus!" At the strange word, the tip of her wand glowed. "See? Made the oath in good faith, so the magic still flows."

Harry managed a weak smile. He looked to Noose. "You've benen a big help," Harry said.

"I... Mr. Potter, I'm given to understand on you first visit here, one Griphook showed you to your vaults."

Harry nodded.

"He later told many of his fellow Vault keepers that you were a tolerable wizard. Understand, Griphook's sire and mare were killed for sport by wizards during the civil war you lost your parents in. Not even Death Eaters, just bigots taking advantage of the chaos. He deemed you /tolerable/, and he does not have a reputation for tolerance. I myself... some wizards treat us as beasts. Others try to treat us as just another human being, not realizing that in itself maginalizes us. You have done nothing less than treat Amlynn and myself as people."

Harry couldn't stop the confused look on his face. "Because you are."

Noose nodded, producing a coin. "This is a knut. I get an allotment of them to take on clients with... but this is from my own treasure. I, the goblin known to his non-goblin friends who value their vocal chords as Noose Rophook, request the honour of managing the Potter Estate as its Primary Accountant. Should the heir wish it, my coin will be placed in his vaults, and I will guard his treasures as my own. I will help his wealth grow in ways that Harry James Potter finds enriching, and I will serve his confidence in all matters. Should I fall, may Gringotts Clan strip me of my charter, may my treasure be taken to make ammends, and may the magic in my bones fade to nothing. May I place this token in your vault, Harry?"

Harry blinked. "Please do."

With a pass of his free hand, the coin was gone. "Then as your estate manager, may I suggest that we ajourn to Amlynn's office in Possibe Alley? Gringotts will require conference charges soon, and the others will give me bad knuts for allowing a client to spend their money that way."

Harry, who was catching on to goblin idiom enough to understand "give me bad knuts" equated to "take the mickey out on me", grinned. "Then let's do that. I won't have my accountant being taunted."

\--

Harry-- as was often the case-- once again found himself astounded at magic. This time, what was surprising was how the feeling of having _seen_ the end of Diagon open into Merlin Circus before was not deja vu, but true memory.

"Is... the circus warded, some how?" Harry asked.

"Nothing so delibrate," Amlynn said with a smile. "It's much like Hogwarts-- that old castle is alive in a sense, as is this little shopping district of ours."

"It's just... I've never realised I'd _seen_ the Circus before," Harry murmured.

"The Alleys reveal themselves when you're ready," was all Noose said to that. "It's the largest, oldest wizarding shopping area in the British Ilses."

"Mary King's Close in Edinburgh is close in size, but the need to accommodate the Muggle tourists restricts expansion a bit," Amlyn explained. "And it isn't as old, either. The only one that comes close in age is Dublin's, and it's a bit smaller."

Merlin Circus was exactly what the name implied-- a round (well, more oblong) area where the alleys that made Wizarding Brittan's largest shopping district joined. Harry saw a signpost naming them all around- clockwise: Diagon, Knockturn, Mort, Possibe, Nortic.

Possibe was where Amlyn's office was, so to Possible they went, crossing the circus and ignoring all but a cart selling hot pasties-- one end chicken or beef or pork with vegtables, the other pumpkin or apple for dessert. They ate on the way back, and Harry marvelled at the perfect texture of each side.

Possibe Alley and its small sub alleys were all Edwardian, as much as Diagon meandered between Victorian and Medieval. The offices, row on row, stood clean and professional as their occupants.

Here were the working professionals, and the trade schools one could attend after Hogwarts to become one if one didn't go to one of the larger schools or enter an apprenticeship.

There were independent healers here, and speciality ones as well-- "I'd like to get my eyes checked," Harry noted, "These glasses are from a second hand bin..."

"Noted," Noose said, pulling a book out of thin air. "Have to see about getting you a general healer for when you're out of school, too. Oh, and--"

"Noose?" Amlyn sighed.

"--Yes?"

"List /quietly/ dear boy."

Noose looked around to see a few people staring. One of his fellow goblins even walked past and rolled her eyes.

"...sorry?" the accountant managed, then returned-- silently but with great verve-- to his list making.

"He and my mate Hermione are going to get on fine," Harry muttered.

"Ah, she's a barking mad genius in her chosen fields too?"

"Mm. And loves lists and charts..."

There were architects specialising in magical homes that could give you a mansion in a closet ("Where were they when I was with the Dursleys?" Harry muttered) and the people that sold those enchanted homes, there was a pair of cleaning services directly across from each other (one advertising the finest elves in the business, and one wondering why you'd trust an elf- there was a story there, Harry was sure), and others... and of course, there were barristers offices.

The offices of Higgins, Gunthrope, and Gristlechewer looked to have been a fine three story home at one point. Everything was immaculate, even the lone horse chestnut tree in front. Harry noticed the only difference between the front door and any other was a handle and keyhole at Amlyn Gristlechewer's level. She unlocked the door and gestured them in, sighing and steering Noose in by the shoulder so he didn't kill himself ("Oh, and a ward check-- personal and property...")

"Al? Aaron? Either of you about?"

A man in wizarding robes stuck his head out of one of the first floor rooms. He had a handlebar mustache Harry mused he could actually grab as handles. His hair was honey blond with hints of gray.

"Lyn! Alvin's at the Wizengamot arguing the Grisham case. Statty and I are looking up references for the Professor's patent case. Who's this?"

"A client, Higgins," Amlyn shot back with a smirk.

"Right. Rophook."

"Accounting of any moneys the relatives received... Higgins... let's see, oh, need make sure all the elves are accounted for and cared for..."

"This way," Amlyn said, leading them up a ramp and then another that took the place of stairs.

Amlyn's office reminded him of charms class, in a way. Her seat was a high stool that let her meet the eyes of her clients.

"Right then. See that basin thing over there? That is a pensieve. It allows you to store and examine memories. We're going to use it to record copies of all the events on that list you gave Noose and any other bloody thing we need. Mine is a legally valid model, mind, made to take items used as sworn testimony only. But it will keep you off the stand as much as possible, if anyone tries to push your will or any other thing to court. It will not hurt, is not any form of attack, and is not a risk to anyone's magic."

Harry goggled at her. "I'm that bad?"

"Just being thorough, Harry."


End file.
